


Miss You Something Rotten

by coffeerepublic



Series: Fantasy / Reality [1]
Category: Choice of Games, Heroes Rise
Genre: Adult Content, Beware, Dirty Talk, Dominant Jury, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hate Sex, Implied Consent, Masturbation, Partially Clothed Sex, Rough Sex, Seriously Not Fluffy, Sexual Fantasy, Strong Language, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeerepublic/pseuds/coffeerepublic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jury masturbates to the fantasy of sexually controlling his favorite rival.</p><p>Alternatively titled 'Fantasy'.<br/>Companion piece to 'Occupy My Every Sigh'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miss You Something Rotten

**Author's Note:**

> This is filthy and I am not nearly as sorry as I should be.

He could not pin her down.

And that was the fundamental problem with her, right? She had come out of nowhere, all pink energy blasts and supersonic flight, willing to tell everyone who wanted or did not want to hear about it of her moral integrity. And in doing so, she stole his rising hero spotlight.

Fucking Conduit.

Fucking Conduit in her too-tight streamlined outfit, with her too-smooth hair that she vainly kept long, no matter how little sense that made when the rest of her style was optimized for flying.

The last time she had arrived on the scene of a crime just in time to finish what he had started rather than to do the polite thing – which would have been to back off and let him handle it – he had first found himself fantasizing about grabbing her hair and _making_ her back down. _Making_ her do what he wanted.

It would serve her well for her hot-headed impetuosity. He had been in this business for at least a year longer than she had. He had super hero seniority, if you will.

He sighed, trying to keep himself from continuing that train of thought as he let himself fall backwards onto his large bed. The satin sheets felt cold against the warm skin of his back. He had only just finished showering and had been too lazy to put on more than fresh underwear. Why would he, after all? His apartment may as well have fit a large family, but he lived here on his own. Tons of space all to himself, exactly the way he preferred it.

Crossing his arms behind his neck and resting his head on them, he stared up towards the high ceiling, gaze unfocused.

Maybe he could indulge himself a little. It had been a hard day, not made any easier by his favorite masked enemy taking yet another job that should have rightfully been his. And then she had proceeded to ridicule him. The nerve!

“At ease, Aaron,” she had said, trying and failing to keep the smugness off her face. She did not have the right to call him by his first name just like that. Sure, his identity was not a secret by any means – but hers was. And as long as he did not know her name, she would do better to keep his out of her filthy mouth.

But he was getting ahead of himself. Back to her hair, for the moment. Her stupid, long, thick hair. It looked like it would feel wonderfully cold and smooth to the touch. If he were to run his hand through it, he was certain it would flow right through the spaces between his fingers like water. But he would not let it. Instead, he would grasp onto it firmly, twisting his wrist one, two, three times until he had complete control over her head’s movement.

He smirked as he imagined just how offended she would be. “Who do you think you are?”, she would snap at him, completely misjudging what little power she still had in this situation.

“It’s not who I think I am so much as who I actually am, kitten.” Her brows would furrow in frustration when she realized she was at his mercy now. He would pull on her hair a bit for good measure, just to make sure she got the point. Kneeling in front of him, she would finally show the humility befitting her.

And she knew his name after all, now didn’t she?

Looking into her wide, clear eyes, he would see a darkness, fear, but also excitement. She needed someone to put her into her place and she knew it.

His other hand would move to the side of her face, stroking her soft cheek through the fabric of her mask for just a moment before pushing his fingertips under the edge and pulling it off.

He sighed, opening his eyes for a moment, the hand that had been journeying towards his waistband stilling abruptly. No image of her face would come to mind. No wonder – after all he had never seen more of it than her eyes. Her intense, almost feline eyes. Damn it. Well then, his mind simply had to travel into another direction. Thankfully he did not lack creativity.

Arriving at his apartment, she would still show the slightest remainders of struggle – as if she had not just come along with him perfectly willingly, knowing fully well where things were headed. Like a cat that pretended not to want your attention, only to follow you when you left the room to make sure you were not actually gone. It was but a game, one she did not realize he was better at than her.

With the bedroom too far, he would push her onto the leather couch on her back, forcing his body between her legs immediately. She would whine as he held down her wrists above her head, pressing his crotch into hers to let her feel his rock-hard dick. Refusing to beg for what she clearly desired, she would intuitively arch her back to rub against him, her tits straining against the fabric of her costume, nipples clearly visible.

He groaned as his waistband got caught on the tip of his cock for a moment when he pulled it from his boxers. For just a moment, he teased his scrotum with light touches of his fingertips before wrapping his hand around the base of his erection, squeezing lightly. Rock-hard, indeed.

“You’re cute, I’ll give you that.” There was not a chance in hell his voice would not be hoarse at this point. “But what else?” With that, he would rip the front of her clothes open, baring her chest to his hungry eyes. Longing to be touched, she would wind in his grasp, trying to get him to put his hands on her already. And, gentleman that he was, he would not make her wait _that_ long.

“I guess cute is applicable here as well,” he would tease, making fun of her rather moderate bust all while groping one breast and rolling the nipple between two fingers. She would refuse to meet his eyes after that, embarrassed yet aroused, and he would not admit to her that he had always personally preferred small breasts on women.

Grinding into his own hand, he lingered on the thought of her tits. From what he could tell with her ridiculously tight outfit, he had reason to believe they were probably perfect.

He needed to get on with this fantasy if he wanted it to go anywhere before it was too late.

Liking the way the ripped fabric only revealed the necessary parts of her to his eyes, he decided to go with the same strategy for the rest. He was nothing if not a pragmatist.

“Turn around,” he would order and at her perplexed hesitation, he would take it upon himself to grab her hips and make her do so, maneuvering her so she was kneeling before him, facing the other way. After all, who would he be to deny her the sight of the setting sun over Millenia City visible through the glass front of his apartment? Even when fucking your enemy, never drop your class.

Speaking of fucking her. That was what he intended to do next. He would put one large hand on her lower back – taking a second to admire how small she was in comparison to himself – and push, making her arch her back and push her ass out in the process. 

Small strokes turned into his hand lingering at the top of his cock, rubbing his thumb around the head in circular motions. That fucking ass. What he wouldn’t give to… but that was a thought for another time.

The seam of her costume went downwards along her spine, teasingly dipping between her butt cheeks and never leaving its central path, even as it met her front. As if it had been made for this exact purpose. 

Mustering up the same strength from before, he would grasp the fabric on both sides of her lower back and tear it apart. A ripping noise would fill the air and be ignored as his eyes would take in the view of first – her lovely butt, stretched toward him and perfect in shape and size, and then – his ultimate goal. Her cunt, reddened with arousal and glistening with wetness, a sight so inviting men with ten times his strength would not be able to resist. Definitive proof of how his overpowering her turned her on, made her want him, made her quiver with need for him to be inside her. 

He switched hands because his wrist had started to hurt, pumping his length in fast, ruthless strokes. He was panting, not because of the exertion, but because he kept forgetting to breathe while his imagination ran wild. 

“Tell me what you want me to do, kitten,” he would rumble, pulling his painfully hard cock from his pants and aligning it with her entrance, only an inch or so of space in between. She would only whimper in reply, trying to squeeze her knees together even more. That however would prove impossible, the laws of physics denying her any measure of relief. He would not let her get away without having begged at least once. He was in power, and he wanted, no, needed her to accept that and give herself to him fully. “Tell. Me.” Each of the words punctuated by a harsh slap against each of her ass cheeks respectively.

The thought of the imprints of _his_ fingers forming on her behind was almost enough to push him over the edge. It was time.

“Please fuck me. Oh, please, please, please…” she would beg, shamefully, not daring to look at him, a never-before-heard tone of submission in her voice.

And then he would give into her, finally, and plunge into her tight depth. He would fuck her hard and fast from the start, relishing in how wonderfully she fit around him. She would push back against him, trying to keep up with his pace but failing, his hips slapping against her ass and hopefully leaving bruises for her to find later. 

He would look down to watch his dick sliding in and out of her beautiful cunt, opening her up and claiming her as his. She would dig her face into the couch in an attempt to muffle her whimpers and cries, thinking him unable to hear her then. But he would know, and he would take pleasure in knowing how embarrassingly into it she was.

“You fucking love this, don’t you? Letting me fuck you like this.” He would put one foot on the floor in front of the couch, changing his position and letting him pound into her from a different angle. She would not reply, not because she had not heard him, but because she secretly loved it and did not dare show that to him. Her muscles clenching around his length whenever he spoke would be telling enough though.

“Where’s your pride now, Conduit? What would people say if they could see you like this, getting fucked by me of all people? Wouldn’t’ve guessed you’d be the easy type. Or the type who likes to be degraded by someone you hate,” he would grunt, his strokes becoming slower, harsher, more pinpointed.

Her fingers would be digging into the leather next to her head now, trembling as she still pushed backwards to impale herself on him.

“I bet you want me to come inside you too, don’t you? So you can be reminded of how good it felt later when it’s dripping out of you. So you can touch yourself to the thought of me when you’re alone in bed, or in the shower, and remember that no one’s ever gonna be able to fuck you this good –“

There was more left to say, but she would be coming then, desperately moaning while her body constricted around him. As if she were trying to trap him inside, to never let him leave her because that was where he belonged and –

– and then he too came, the force of his orgasm pulling him back to reality as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him. His arm kept pumping while spurt after spurt of white semen broke free, sullying his hand, his stomach and the sheets.

He exhaled a shaky breath, finally opening his eyes. It took a moment for the disorientation to fade. If there had ever been a sexual fantasy of his that he had gotten even nearly as into, he could not remember.

A half-laugh broke free as he remembered he had originally wanted to imagine fucking her against the full window front of his apartment. Even in his thoughts he had managed to get ahead of himself.

Well, too bad. There would be more than enough future opportunities to implement that into his fantasies.

He rolled to the side and got up off the bed, trying not to get any more stains on the – unfortunately black – sheets. He should have probably done this before taking a shower, he mused, walking into the bathroom to clean himself off. 

The next time he met Conduit, he was going to take note of all the details he had filled in through imagination just now. Maybe he would even get a look at her face, one day.

He looked at his own in the mirror, finding his features forming a surprisingly relaxed impression.

Perhaps he should have been feeling guilty to some extent at how easily he had made her into nothing more than a fantasy to get off to. But he could not find it in himself to actually do so.

It was okay. After all, she was never going to know.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not be concocting an idea for a sequel in my brain...


End file.
